


Doubts and Differences

by thememehermit



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Illustrated, M/M, this is the most self-indulgent thing ive ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 19:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10725456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thememehermit/pseuds/thememehermit
Summary: Fiddleford realizes that he is not the same man Stanford first fell in love with.  In the middle of the night.





	Doubts and Differences

**Author's Note:**

> this is pure self-indulgence but im sure SOMEONE might want to read it maybe??? please let me know so i dont regret posting this.

It was late at night, but Fiddleford Mcgucket couldn’t sleep.

He turned to his partner, Stanford, who, in contrast, was snoring up a storm. The two of them had been together for almost half a year now, after their reunion during events that are classified by the Never Mind All That Act.

Despite having been apart for thirty (30) years, Stanford was the same as ever. He still smiled the same goofy smile, wore the same adorable expression that reminded Fiddleford of a confused owl. Still made Fiddleford fall hard for him.

Fiddleford, on the other hand, had changed tremendously. Sure, he was recovering memories almost every day, but his mental state was a far stretch from the mild-mannered southerner who liked to make (non-lethal) robots.

And so he lay awake, plagued by these thoughts. He was just so different, wasn’t Stanford bothered by it? Would Ford leave when he realized Fiddleford would never be quite the same? Why would he spend so much time with him on the slim chance he would miraculously recover?

A wave of guilt washed over Fiddleford. Was he leading Ford on? The notion made him sick to his stomach, but in a sense, it was true. Fiddleford felt horrible; Stanford was so amazing, so wonderful, and he deserved so much better than the crazy, broken man who lay in bed with him.

He couldn’t keep deceiving Ford. Fiddleford turned to face Stanford. His cheek was smushed against his face, and he was hugging his pillow (no, he was definitely not envious of a pillow) while slightly drooling on it. (Gosh darnit, who gave this man permission to be so adorable, who allowed such a wonderful thing to walk among filth like him.)

“Stanford?” he said, gently nudging his partner to wake him. Ford’s eyes blinked open, looking half awake, and murmured a sound that meant ‘what is it?’ Fiddleford mentally prepared himself for whatever came next.

“Ford? How come yer still with me?” he said. He picked each word carefully like he was defusing a bomb.

Stanford wrinkled his brow. “What do you mean by that, Fidds?” he asked. Fiddleford’s heart either broke or melted at the old nickname, but he couldn’t tell which, maybe both.

“I mean… you’re just… I ain’t…” He struggled to find the right words. “I’m tryin’ ta say that I love you very much but… I…”

Ford waited for Fiddleford to gather his words, bless his patience. “Ah’m just so different now than I was b’fore… I don’t wanna lead you on, or make ya think I’m the same when I ain’t,” he said.

Ford frowned. Fiddleford cringed internally; he’d upset him. He prepared himself for anger, but instead Stanford pulled him into a hug. “I don’t care about that,” he said. “People change all the time, you’re still you, and I still love you.”

 

Fiddleford stared. He had expected anger, or sorrow, or disbelief, but not… reassurance. Fiddleford’s eyes started to tear up because he couldn’t believe what he heard, Stanford still loved him, he didn’t care how crazy he was.

Fiddleford sniffled and returned the hug. He buried his face in Ford’s sweater, which was soft and warm, and rose and fell with his breathing. Ford held him tighter, and in that moment, everything was okay, and the two old scientists drifted off into pleasant, peaceful sleep.


End file.
